Ethan looked up. Directly in front of him, Madison was sitting perfectly still, her pen already resting on her desk. She looked completely unbothered by the brutal test.
Ethan leaned forward slightly, dropping his voice to an absolute whisper. "Are you done, Madison?"
At the front of the room, Henry's ears twitched. He distinctly heard the whisper, but his eyes remained fixed on his clipboard, completely feigning ignorance.
Madison turned her head just a fraction, a small smirk playing on her lips. "I've been done," she whispered back.
Ethan's eyes widened slightly. He leaned a millimeter closer. "A little assistance here would be highly appreciated."
Madison's smirk widened. She didn't say another word, but she subtly slid her exam paper to the far edge of her desk, angling it perfectly so that it cleared her shoulder, giving Ethan an unobstructed view of her final answer.
Ethan's eyebrows raised in genuine surprise. He hadn't actually expected her to help him. Wasting no time, he quickly copied the advanced formula down, finalized his paper, and gave her a subtle thumbs-up.
"Thanks," he breathed.
Madison gave a barely perceptible nod and pulled her paper back, looking straight ahead.
From the podium, Henry watched the entire interaction play out.
Should I step in and disqualify them right now? Henry thought, his gaze locking onto Ethan's head. But instead, his eyes widened slightly as a strange, unbidden thought crossed his mind. He forced his gaze away, focusing on the rest of the classroom. Why am I stopping myself? Is it because...
BRRRRRING.
"Time is up. Pens down, everyone," Henry commanded, standing up.
The collective groan of exhausted students filled the air as they stood up to stack their tests on Henry's desk. Within minutes, the classroom cleared out completely, leaving only three people behind: Allen, Madison, and Ethan.
Allen handed his paper in, then hovered awkwardly near the open doorway, waiting for Madison.
Madison stepped up next, placing her sheet on the pile. Henry took it, his expression unreadable. "Stay behind for a moment, Madison," he said quietly.
Ethan walked up last, sliding his test paper onto the desk. Henry spoke, "Ethan. Wait."
Allen looked back into the room, sensing the heavy shift in tone. Henry caught his eye and gestured toward the hallway.
"Allen, you can leave. Close the door behind you."
Allen hesitated for a split second, then nodded, pulling the heavy wooden door shut until it clicked into place.
"Sir... is there a problem?" Madison asked, her voice steady but defensive.
Looks like Mr. Henry caught us red-handed, Ethan thought, his mercenary instincts remaining completely detached and calm.
Henry leaned back against his desk, crossing his arms as he looked at the two of them. "Why do you think I asked you two to stay behind?"
Before Madison could construct an elegant excuse, Ethan spoke up, his voice deadpan and entirely honest. "We were cheating."
Henry let out a slow breath, nodding his head. He stared at Ethan for a long moment, then shifted his gaze to Madison.
"Don't let it happen again," Henry said simply.
Both Madison and Ethan blinked, slightly taken aback by the leniency, but they nodded in unison. "Understood, Sir."
"You're dismissed," Henry said, picking up his pen to grade the stack. "Go get some rest, and make sure you actually study for tomorrow's exam."
Madison and Ethan turned and walked out of the quiet classroom together, after nodding.
As they walked down the quiet hallway, Ethan couldn't shake the unsettling feeling in his gut.
If Henry knew exactly what we were doing, why didn't he stop us right then and there? Ethan thought silently.
Waiting at the very end of the corridor was Allen, his arms crossed as he watched them approach. "What did he say?" Allen asked, his eyes scanning them both for signs of trouble.
"Well, I helped Ethan out with a question," Madison answered casually, completely downplaying the tension. "Mr. Henry just warned us not to do it again."
Allen nodded slowly, accepting the answer.
Suddenly, Ethan's phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw a quick text from Daisy.
"I have to head out. See you both tomorrow," Ethan said, pocketing the device. He offered them a brief nod and walked away.
The remaining days of the exam week bled into a blur of intense study sessions and silence. Ethan pushed his limits, grinding through the material and performing exceptionally well.
Throughout the rest of the testing block, he and Madison didn't interact at all, keeping their distance.
A few days later, the official report cards were finally posted.
The results were stunning. Ethan had managed to climb all the way to fourth place in his entire class—a massive feat considering what he was balancing outside of school.
Madison, completely unfazed, held onto her throne at the absolute top of the second year class, ranking first as always, second position in entire grade.
Meanwhile, Daisy had completely dominated her grade, securing the undisputed number one position across all the first-year classes.
When they brought the news home, the household erupted in celebration. Selena was radiant, a proud, rare smile warming her usually sharp face.
To celebrate their hard work, their grandfather pulled out all the stops. For Ethan, he bought a brand-new, high-performance PC. For Daisy, he gifted her a sleek, top-of-the-line laptop.
The atmosphere in the house was pure joy. Later that night, the excitement finally settled.
Ethan retreated to his bedroom, carefully unboxing the heavy computer tower and setting it up on his desk. He plugged in the monitor, wires clicking into place, and finally sank back into his chair.
He stared at the glowing screen, his mind shifting gears away from academics.
Now that summer holidays are officially here, I have some time before the next term begins, Ethan calculated, his eyes turning cold and focused as the mercenary side of his brain reawakened.
Should I hunt The Third Branch? Ethan gazed outside the window.
Elsewhere
Far away, in an oppressive, shadow-drenched room, a completely different kind of work was being done.
A man sat quietly at a dark wooden desk. He wore sleek, black leather gloves that muffled the sound of his movements. The only illumination in the entire room came from the narrow, concentrated beam of a small hand torch, cutting through the darkness to light up a single piece of crisp white paper.
The scratching sound of a fountain pen filled the quiet air. The gloved hand moved with precise, flawless calligraphy, finally coming to a halt as the man scrawled a final, definitive command across the page:
"Go to the Capital."
The man set the pen down. With slow, deliberate movements, the black-gloved hands took the paper and began folding it.
He creased the edges with mechanical perfection, folding it into a very specific, intricate shape—the exact same unique style of letter that Ethan had found left on his desk before.